Stubborn Fool
by Kenna Monster
Summary: Hunter was used to taking care of himself and it didn't matter if his dad had died a week ago or if he was injured on the latest mission, nothing was going to change that. Not his teammates. Not Coulson. Not even Bobbi.
1. Chapter 1

**[A/N : Hunter is one of my favorite characters in this series, hope you enjoy!]**

"Anyone seen Hunter?" Bobbi asked, looking around as they worked to clear the quinjet. The mission had been a win, the team successfully infiltrating a Hydra training center and taking out all the insurgents. Hunter had surprised everyone when he volunteered to join but Coulson gave him the okay so Bobbi didn't argue.

Now she wasn't so sure that had been a good idea. Because honestly, he hadn't been the same in the week since his dad had died. She'd been right next to him when Coulson gave him the news, May and Mack standing a little further behind in case the news proved hard to handle. They'd all seen Hunter lose his cool before.

But Bobbi knew something was wrong the instant realization hit him that he was truly an orphan. It was the way his eyes glazed over, the spark dimmed. She knew the darker side of her ex husband better than anyone else on the team. Knew of his nightmares and guilt. Knew the need for action and danger and not caring if he came back from a mission alive. It terrified her.

Which is why when she glanced around to find him gone from the hangar so soon after landing, she grew uneasy. More uneasy, honestly. His silence throughout the flight there and back had unnerved her, and his uncanny ability to get separated from the others then reappear a few minutes later looking worse for wear but still standing was going to give her an ulcer.

It didn't matter if they were together or not. She could tell he was hiding something.

"He said he needed a shower," Mack replied. Bobbi nodded before turning and heading to Hunter's room, trying to keep her pace slow. If she began running everyone would know something was wrong when she herself wasn't even sure. She needed to see him before she fully panicked.

"Hunter?" She asked, knocking on his door. She half expected him to ignore her, but the sound of running water made her cautiously peek inside. His clothes lay in a rumpled pile by the bathroom door which was partially ajar, steam filling the air.

"Hunter? It's Bobbi," she said as she neared the bathroom. Abruptly the shower shut off and Hunter stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

Bobbi sighed. "I came to check on you."

"Well I'm fine, no need to worry about me," he said, forcing his voice to remain neutral.

Bobbi wanted to kick him in the stomach. "For once, will you let me help you?"

"I'm fine," he repeated, daring her to argue.

Bobbi slammed the door behind her and stalked off, trying to get as far from Hunter as possible. If he didn't want her help them he could suffer alone for all she cared!

* * *

Hunter waited for Bobbi's footsteps to recede down the hall before allowing himself to deflate, using the doorway for support. His entire left side ached, the deep throb that told him he had a few broken bones. He could handle the dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs, but as he adjusted the towel and looked down at the gash in his side he knew he needed help. With his shoulder messed up he couldn't do a self stitch job, something he'd done on numerous occasions.

Time to find the geeks.

"I strongly advise against this," Jemma said as she inspected the cut. Hunter was laying back on his bed while she sat beside him, Fitz holding a small med kit for her.

"Just get it over with," Hunter said. "Please."

Jemma sighed. "Alright then."

Hunter closed his eyes, focusing his mind elsewhere as Jemma cleaned the wound then began stitching it closed. The pain burned through his side and he had to force himself not to tense, his fist clenching the blankets.

"All done," she said a few minutes later, taping a bandage down. She sat back to admire her handy work and noticed the bruises beginning to creep up his ribs.

"Are you sure you don't want me to check for other injuries?" She asked, looking at Hunter.

He shifted, groaning. "Sure." He tried to stay still as Jemma gently began pressing against his ribs. When she touched one that had been hit particularly hard he hissed, jerking away.

"You've got one broken rib and three others are cracked. Since you're refusing medical attention I can wrap them but if that rib shifts you could..."

"Puncture a lung, I know," Hunter finished for her. Jemma glanced at Fitz, who shrugged. They couldn't force him to go to the med bay.

"I'll need you to sit up so I can wrap them," she said. Hunter groaned as he slowly moved into an upright position, perching on the edge of his bed while Jemma prepared to begin wrapping his ribs.

"I need you to lift your arm," she instructed.

Hunter shook his head. "Dislocated my shoulder. Probably should pop that back in first."

"Okay this is ridiculous!" She argued, standing up. "You're seriously injured and need to be resting in the med bay where a team of doctors can patch you up in no time!"

"I don't want a team of doctors love, I just want you and Fitz to be the only ones who know. Please Jem," Hunter begged, looking up at them.

Jemma finally relented, unable to say no to a friend in pain. "This is going to hurt. Do you want to take anything?" Hunter grabbed a nearby bottle of rum and took a few swigs.

"Leo, when I say go pull up and out," said Jemma as she grabbed the top of Hunter's shoulder. He closed his eyes and braced himself for what he knew would come next, but as Jemma nodded at Fitz and he pulled, there was a loud pop then Hunter knew no more.

* * *

"Hunter? Lance, can you hear me?"

"I think he's coming around."

Hunter opened his eyes to find Jemma and Fitz leaning over him, both looking concerned. "What happened?" He asked, realizing he was lying on his bed with his chest heavily bandaged.

"You passed out," Fitz replied.

Jemma checked his pupils. "How are you feeling? Any nausea? Did you hit your head earlier?"

"I'm fine," Hunter said, struggling to sit up and failing, his body one giant bruise. Reluctantly he laid back, closing his eyes.

"You most clearly are not!" Jemma shouted. Hunter winced at the loud noise, the pain in his head ratcheting up a level. "You've got broken and cracked ribs, twelve stitches, a dislocated shoulder and a possible concussion! But sure, you're fine!"

Fitz and Hunter watched open-mouthed as Jemma paced back and forth nervously, wringing her hands. She kept muttering "I knew this was a mistake!"

"I'll be alright, I just need some rest," Hunter said. "Please don't tell anyone."

Jemma froze, slowly turning to look at him incredulously. "Don't tell anyone?"

Hunter nodded. "Yah. If Bobbi or Coulson get wind of this I'll be off missions till I heal up."

"And how is that a bad thing?" Fitz asked. Jemma nodded in agreement.

"I just...I don't want them worrying. I'll be better in a few days, and Bobbi will never let me live this down," Hunter explained.

"I can't believe this," Jemma said, hand on her forehead. She looked at Fitz. "This is such a bad idea."

"Just go!" Hunter snapped. Jemma gathered the med supplies and quickly left, Fitz hesitating in the doorway. He watched Hunter throw an arm over his eyes before he closed the door and tried to ignore the nagging suspicion that they'd just made a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N : On to the next chapter!]**

"Where's Hunter?" Coulson asked as the rest of the team assembled in the hangar for their briefing of their next mission.

Bobbi shrugged. "Probably drowning in a bottle."

Fitz and Jemma glanced at each other, Jemma's eyes going round with worry.

"I'll go find him," Mack volunteered. He walked down the hall to Hunter's room and pounded on the door. He wasn't sure what had happened to so drastically alter the man he used to know but he was going to find out. Lance Hunter used to be a good soldier, used to take orders and follow through without hesitation. But lately he was on a slippery slope towards an alcoholic's end. The recent death of his father wasn't helping.

"Come on man open the door or I'm comin' in," Mack called out, knocking again. When he received no response he turned the handle and stepped inside, finding the bed rumpled from sleep but empty. The bathroom door opened and Hunter walked into the room, looking pale and shaky.

"You okay?" Mack asked, grabbing his arm as Hunter swayed. "Please tell me you aren't wasted. We have a mission!"

"I'm fine," Hunter said, swatting his hand away and taking a step back.

Mack huffed. "Look, I know you've been having a hard time lately. I can't imagine what it's like losing your dad so suddenly. But this isn't how you handle it! You talk to your friends, you turn to those who care about you. You don't drown your sorrows!"

"Will you just stop! I don't need some babysitter watching my every move. I'm a grown man, I can do what I want with my life thank you very much," Hunter snapped.

Mack raised his hands in mock defeat. "Fine, have it your way. Coulson wants you in the hangar for mission brief."

Hunter stomped out of the room, Mack following like an obedient guard. Hunter just hoped no one else noticed how miserable he felt.

When they arrived in the hangar Coulson nodded at them before continuing with his instructions. "We go in low under the radar, just like last time. If we can take out this recruitment center, we can cripple Hydra's expansion in the area. So get suited up bus leaves in ten."

Hunter was about to walk over to the quinjet when Coulson called his name. He turned, not surprised the director wanted to talk to him. He followed Coulson and May a few steps down the hall, the sounds of the others preparing the quinjet for flight helping drown out their conversation.

"I don't think you should be on this mission," Coulson said plainly.

"I'm sorry I was late, it won't happen again," Hunter promised.

"It isn't the fact that you were late, it's your overall state. You aren't in a good place right now," said May.

"The loss of your father was harder on you than I think any of us could imagine. Take the next few days and clear your head," Coulson suggested.

"I don't need to clear my head, I need to be out there," Hunter argued. May glanced at Coulson, unsure how he might respond.

After a moment of silence Coulson nodded. "Alright, but you stay with the team at all times. No going off on your own."

"Yes sir!" Hunter said before hurrying back into the hangar.

"Something's wrong with him," May said, watching Hunter closely.

"I know," Coulson agreed. "Keep an eye on him for me. He'll talk when he's ready."

* * *

The Hydra recruitment center was just another nondescript warehouse. But as the team landed on the roof and began going down floor by floor and clearing out the Hydra agents, Hunter allowed himself to get swept up in the monotony of working with the others to take out the enemy. He kept his gun cocked and ready in his right hand, hoping he wouldn't need to use his left at any time. It was pretty much useless, his shoulder a deep shade of purple and throbbing with each step he took. He could barely move his arm without any pain flaring deep within the socket. Then there was his ribs, which thankfully were still being held tightly in place by Jemma's bandage. And his cut on his side with the stitches that itched. Oh, and his head buzzing like he could pass out at any moment. He was totally fit to be in the field.

Maybe it was the concussion or a mixture of any one of his injuries, but Hunter didn't see the Hydra agent until the man was nearly on top of him. He managed to slam Hunter sideways into the wall before being easily dispatched by May.

The others didn't notice Hunter leaning heavily against the wall. None of them had heard the pop as he'd hit his chest, but he didn't care about that. All he cared about was the sudden inability to breathe.

"You good?" Bobbi asked, coming up to him. She didn't like the way he looked, face pinched in pain, or the way his breaths were rattling in his chest.

"Can't...breathe..." He gasped, looking at her with wide eyes full of panic. He began sliding down the wall but Mack was there, hoisting him upright.

"Back to the jet, now!" May ordered. Bobbi kept their rear protected as Mack half-carried Hunter up the stairs and to the quinjet while May fired up the engines.

"Lay him down," Bobbi instructed, grabbing the med kit and a blanket. Mack laid Hunter down on the floor and Bobbi placed the blanket under his head.

"Hunter, can you hear me?" Mack asked. Hunter nodded, eyes scrunched tightly shut as he kept gasping for air.

Bobbi whipped out a knife and quickly made ribbons of Hunter's shirt, tossing the scraps aside to see what they were dealing with. She sucked in her breathe when she saw the bruises on his left shoulder and the bandages wrapped around his chest. Quickly cutting through those as well, she had to take a deep breath to settle herself as she looked down at the mottled pattern running down Hunter's ribs before ending in a bandage right above his waistline. He was a mess.

"What the hell?" Mack asked, looking across at her.

"He never said anything," Bobbi murmured, unsure what to do.

Mack began gently pressing against Hunter's ribs until he felt an indent. "He's got a broken rib, probably punctured his lung."

"How much longer?" Bobbi shouted, glancing towards the cockpit.

"Fifteen minutes, ten if I push it," May replied. Bobbi and Mack looked at each other then Hunter as his eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp.

"Push it!" Mack shouted.

* * *

"Pneumothorax, decreased breath sounds on the left."

"He's hypoxic, going into shock!"

Hunter floated, the flurry of movement and shouts around him separate from himself. He didn't care what they were saying, or why everyone sounded so urgent. All he cared about was the peaceful darkness.

He didn't notice when someone tipped his head back and slid a tube down his throat.

Or when an IV line was inserted into his arm.

The iodine being splashed across his ribs completely unfazed him, as well as a small tube being removed from between his ribs then a second larger tube being re-inserted.

It wasn't until his labored breathing suddenly got much easier that he vaguely wondered if Bobbi or Coulson would be mad he lied to them.

* * *

Bobbi sat on the floor across the hall from the med bay, her knees drawn to her chest. She wanted to hit something or cry. Her stomach was twisted into knots as she watched through the window, her view of Hunter obscured by the doctors and nurses trying to save his life.

Watching Mack use his knife to put a tube into Hunter's chest. Pumping the ambu-bag so Hunter could breathe as his lips turn blue. Hunter's heart stopping twice before they landed in the hangar where Coulson and a team of doctors stood waiting. They loaded him onto a stretcher and whisked him away before she even had a chance to say goodbye.

Shit. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to Lance. She didn't think she'd ever be ready.

"Any news?" Skye asked as she joined them.

"Not yet," Mack replied.

"I'm sure they'll tell us as soon as they can," May said.

Bobbi glanced around. The entire team, including Coulson, sat outside the med bay waiting to hear on Hunter's condition. The only ones not offering encouragement were Jemma and Fitz, but they'd been quiet ever since admitting they'd been the ones who patched Hunter up. Bobbi wasn't even upset. She was glad he trusted someone on the team well enough to ask for their help, even if she wished it'd been her.

The door opened and one of the doctors stepped out into the hall. Suddenly everyone was on their feet with bated breath.

"How is he?" Coulson asked.

"Stable for now," the doctor replied. "He's got two broken ribs, one of which punctured his lung. We were able to set the ribs and replace the emergency chest tube during surgery. Four other ribs are cracked but I'm more worried about the swelling in his brain."

"How bad is it?" Mack asked.

"With a severe concussion like Mr. Hunter's there's a chance the swelling could cause permanent damage. We won't know the extent until he wakes up," the doctor explained. "We've got him on a ventilator to help ease any stress on his lungs."

"Can I see him?" Bobbi asked, her voice surprisingly steady. She felt like she was sleepwalking.

The doctor nodded, mentioning something about keeping the visits short but Bobbi wasn't listening. She was already walking into the med bay towards the bed where Hunter was lying, looking so fragile surrounded by all the machines. He hardly looked any better than he had while lying on the floor of the quinjet, his face pale with dark smudges under his eyes. A small tube snaked out of his mouth to the ventilator which steadily pushed his chest up and down. Multiple IV bags hung from the pole beside his bed with the line taped to the back of his right hand. A monitor showed his heart rate and blood pressure, both of which were too low for her liking. His left arm was in a sling to help immobilize his heavily bandaged shoulder. His chest was completely covered in more bandages, the chest tube barely peeking out as it connected to a pump. Various leads and wires were attached to what little skin was visible on his torso. The ventilator's whooshing noise constantly reminded her that Hunter was too weak to breathe on his own.

"He'll pull through. Lance is strong," Coulson said, coming to stand beside her. He disliked the scene as much as Bobbi did. Having one of his agents injured was the worst part of being the Director.

"I can't lose him," Bobbi said, the words aching as they left her mouth. Because in that moment, as she saw her ex-husband lying before her so broken and small, it seemed like more of a possibility than ever before. She turned to Coulson, vision blurry with tears. "I can't lose him."

Coulson was there, wrapping her in his arms and holding her as everything crashed down around her. The sobs echoed harshly in the small room but he didn't shush her. He let her cry until Mack was there, guiding her into a nearby chair. Someone wrapped a blanket around her and squeezed her shoulder, and as she calmed down Bobbi realized the entire team stood beside her.

"We'll stay with you," May explained, crouching in front of Bobbi. She nodded, unable to speak.

"Call me if there's any change," Coulson murmured.

* * *

Over the next few hours May, Skye, Jemma, Mack and Fitz took turns sitting with Bobbi. Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she paced. But mostly she just sat there, staring at Hunter's face while the machines beeped and whirred around him.

They all hated seeing him so still. He was a force to be reckoned with, always talking or moving. He wasn't supposed to be injured. He wasn't supposed to have a ventilator helping him breathe. He wasn't supposed to be hooked to so many different machines. He wasn't supposed to be so cold, no matter how many blankets they piled on him. It was all wrong.

Those thoughts kept chasing around Bobbi's head as she held Hunter's icy hand in her own. She'd never wanted to trade places with someone as much as she did right then.


	3. Chapter 3

**[A/N : As always reviews are much appreciated!]**

Maybe it was the heavy antiseptic smell, or the close quarters, or the sounds of numerous life-saving machines clicking and whirring, but Fitz hated the med bay. He hated seeing Hunter lying there. He hated not being able to do anything to help. He hated not having any comforting words to tell Bobbi who refused to leave Hunter's side.

So he brought her food, which she hardly touched. Brought her weapons for cleaning. Challenged her to chess and checkers and card games. Covered her with a blanket whenever she fell asleep in the chair beside Hunter's bed. Avoided giving her statistics on coma patients. Watched over them both like a hawk.

"Go get some sleep," May whispered as she startled Fitz, quietly sneaking into the room without him noticing.

"I'm alright," he said, glancing surreptitiously at Hunter's monitor. No change in his vitals for four days now.

"You've been here nearly as much as Bobbi, and she practically lives in that chair," May said, smiling faintly at him. "I can take over the watch for tonight. You deserve a break."

Fitz was exhausted to the point of blurry vision and heavy legs, but he didn't want to leave unless he was sure Bobbi and Hunter would be taken care of. May noticed.

"I promise if anything changes you'll be the first to know," she swore. Reluctantly Fitz allowed her to gently push him towards the door where she signalled two guards to guide him to his room.

Once she was sure her nerd was safely on his way to bed May turned her attention to her two other charges. Bobbi was curled up in her chair, sleeping soundly. Fitz had already covered her with a blanket and though her neck would be sore in the morning she appeared alright.

Hunter was another story. His face which had been so pale for the first few days had taken on an unhealthy flush. The doctors were concerned and with his fever rising May began to worry just how much his body could take. He was still on the ventilator and chest tube while his lungs struggled, and there was no sign that he was waking up any time soon.

May took up her position in the other chair by the door, able to see Hunter's monitor, Bobbi, and the door all at once. She settled in for a long night.

* * *

Infection.

Bobbi was amazed how one word could change so much. She watched a nurse check Hunter's vitals, his fever spiking dangerously high which left everyone scrambling. He was being more closely monitored than before and stripped of the pile of blankets, ice packs layered around his body to help cool him down. All the bandages weren't helping but they didn't have much of an option.

"Dinner," Mack said, bringing in a tray of food. He set it down beside her and looked at Hunter. He could fight anything, but an infection was a different story. And Hunter was already so weak.

"Thanks," Bobbi said, taking the cloth from Hunter's forehead and wetting it in the sink before she replaced it. His face, under the ventilator, was flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He was getting worse.

"If you want to take a break I'll sit with him," Mack offered.

Bobbi shook her head. "No, I'm okay." She glanced outside, surprised to see the team and Hunter's lead doctor talking in the hall.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, glancing at Mack.

"They're just talking about Hunter's condition," he replied, taking a step towards her. Bobbi knew him, knew when he was lying to her to protect her. It was the same face he used when telling her Hunter's dad had passed.

Bobbi brushed past him, walking out into the hall. Everyone fell silent as she approached.

"Bobbi," May said, seeing the hard glint in her eyes.

"Whats going on?" She demanded.

"Hunter's body is too weak to fight off an infection. We're giving him a heavy dose of antibiotics but added with his compromised lungs we need to be ready in case things get worse," the doctor explained.

"Worse?" Bobbi asked.

"You're his only listed family," Coulson replied. "If his health continues to deteriorate we'll need to discuss life support."

Bobbi rocked back, hit hard by his words. They were worried Hunter wasn't going to be able to fight off the infection. He'd be nothing more than a shell of himself. He would hate it if he knew.

"You don't have to make any decision right now, we were just weighing the options," May said.

"The options for when his body shuts down and we keep him alive with machines," Bobbi gasped. She couldn't breathe. After sitting by his side for a week straight, this was the final straw.

Bobbi Morse, a seasoned agent who never backed down from a fight and always stood her ground, ran. She ran away from her team and the doctors and the medical equipment. She ran from the overwhelming sense of despair clogging her throat. She ran from the idea of having to make an end of life decision for Hunter. She ran from the idea of saying goodbye to him. She ran.

It wasn't until much later, when she was hiding in a ventilation shaft, that the idea came to her. She'd worked for Shield long enough to know a few highly guarded secrets, one of which had the potential to cure Hunter. It just required a little work on her part.


End file.
